Over the years I’ve noticed that, as I change, my definition of what success means to me changes too.

When I was young it was a question of the image I presented. I spent time, effort and money to look professional, warm and approachable – expensive clothes, jackets with padded shoulders, warm colours and natural fabrics. Part of the image included spending money on things I couldn’t really afford, all in an effort to appear ‘successful’.

Here’s a question: What story are you telling yourself about yourself?

We have stories we tell ourselves about anything and everything – ourselves, other people and life in general. A personal favourite of mine is the ‘helpless’ story. This one is

– or could have been – mine:

“After 37 years, I decided I deserved better and finally left my marriage.

Of course, it was his fault. I had a list of complaints as long as my arm: everything he said or didn’t say; everything he did or didn’t do – that left me feeling resentful, frustrated, angry and hurt.

People I thought were friends walked away. I felt abandoned. I kept talking about my feelings all the time; I just couldn’t help it. It all seemed so unfair.”

A while back I posted a number of blogs introducing the concept of the Gremlin (your inner critic) and suggested ways to manage it.

I’ve been familiar with my Gremlin for as long as I remember, even when I didn’t have name for it. I even commented how important it was to be aware of how it works because it affects the quality of our life like nothing else can.

Probably the most important point I made was that, even when we learn to master it, we will always have to watch out because it will never be defeated.

Ever since I decided to work with senior and professional people nearing retirement – who are dreading it, I started a process of my own around my own age – 67. Although nothing in me fits any of the criteria as dictated by social norms such as appearance (I’m blessed with great genes), health and wellbeing, and the way I think and act, I was still wondering “is this it?”

I grew up believing that telling the truth is something we tell another person. But that’s only part of the story.

In reality, the most important person we actually need to tell the truth to is – ourselves.

We lie to ourselves all the time. In my younger days my self-deceptions revolved around my self image. Every time I opened my mouth and started a sentence with “I like to think I am (honest, truthful, reliable, loving or a good friend”), that was my way of trying to look good to myself.

One of the main advantages of being coached is that I’m now quicker to notice when I’m doing something that doesn’t work for me.

Two weeks ago life hit me with a huge challenge. It felt like a punch in the stomach. My instant knee-jerk reaction was to think the worst and I was plunged into a dark pit of fear and despair.

I stayed there for a whole day. Then I though, “Wait a minute. I’ve been here before – actually I’ve been here more than once and somehow I overcame the challenge. I know there’s nothing to worry about. I trust myself enough to know that I can handle it.”

As far as I know, nobody questions what is real. Reality just is. Full stop.

Ah, but is that true?

How come different people experience the same event in completely different ways?

It’s because what we believe is reality is actually a combination of how we perceive and interpret everything that happens to us. In other words, if we chose to change the way we interpret something we would experience that event differently. But, to make things a little more complicated, our perceptions